


Shot

by flibbertygigget



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Heathers AU, Homophobia, M/M, Murder, Suicide, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-22 22:08:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 14,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6095527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flibbertygigget/pseuds/flibbertygigget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron Burr was used to keeping his head down and making his way safely through King's High School, but even he can't deal with accidentally falling in with the Jeffersonians (headed by Alpha Bitch Thomas Jefferson), ambiguously gay football players, and one very angry foster kid without coming out on the other side a bit damaged. And that's before he accidentally kills someone...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Jeffersonians

_September 1st, 1989_

Aaron Burr took a deep breath. This was it. This was the beginning of the end. His senior year at King's High School was about to start.

It hadn't been easy. It was treacherously simple to make a wrong move and become another victim of one of the popular/rich kids. But Aaron had perfected the art of keeping his head down. Talk less. Smile more. Don't let them know that you can hear the things they whisper behind your back or mind the way that they snarl when you get in their way.

Aaron knew his friends from his enemies. Friends were people like Theodosia and the Schuyler sisters. Most of them were like Aaron: quiet, nerdy, and ultimately overlooked. Harmless. But Aaron had plans. He was going to Princeton; he was going to be something. All the assholes and jocks would be jokes when they failed or dropped out of college. Aaron was going to have the last laugh.

And the enemies? The enemies were people like Gilbert Motier (who insisted that everyone call his  _Marquis_ , the dick) and John Laurens, football players who saw their trophies and titles as carte blanche to swagger and treat everyone else as though they were nothing. Granted, Aaron knew that they weren't the worst. Marquis and Laurens were egotistic, not sadistic. If they bothered to think for more than a few minutes, they would probably be decent, but they didn't. They didn't have to. No, he honor of the title of the worst, the guys who took pleasure in making others miserable, were the Jeffersonians.

James, James, and Thomas. They were the ones that everyone loved and everyone hated. The girls wanted to be with them and the guys wanted to be them. If you could get in, you were royalty, but if you pissed them off... well, there was a reason why Angelica Schuyler was a social outcast, and her sisters with her. You just didn't piss them off.

There was James Madison. He was almost as nerdy as Aaron, which was saying something, but his parents were loaded, which was probably why Thomas Jefferson kept him around.

Then there was James Monroe. He was probably the stupidest of the Jeffersonians, an absolute parrot who seemed to exist for the sake of inflating Thomas's increasingly massive ego. Then again, his mom had paid for plastic surgery, which was even better than a personality at King's.

And then there was Thomas Jefferson, the worst, and therefore the best, of them all. He was charming, sexy, and ruthless, perfectly willing to toy with you for a weekend then throw you out like a used tissue. Unless, of course, you were useful. Then he demanded absolute loyalty, or you were dead socially.

Aaron was perfectly happy with staying below the radar with his friends. He didn't want to be embroiled in the worthless, dangerous world of the high school hierarchy, or at least that's what he told himself. But he would have been stupid not to take the opportunity to be in with the Jeffersonians when it fell into his lap.


	2. Chapter 2

_September 4th, 1989_

Aaron Burr was late. It wasn't his fault, of course. It had taken him fifteen minutes to find his clothes after they had been stolen while he was in the showers, and another ten to get them dry enough to wear using Theodosia's hairdryer. He  _hated_ it when they decided to throw his clothes in the toilets.

Later, Aaron would wonder why he didn't just go. He could have minded his own business, kept his head down. Who knows, perhaps sticking to his strategy would have prevented everything that came afterwards. But, no, not even Aaron could resist the strange allure that followed the Jeffersonians.

"Guys, can we get to class? I don't need another tardy this semester, I'll get a detention," said James Madison. Aaron froze, halfway through forging a late pass to his next class.

"You are such a nerd, James," said Thomas.

"Yeah,  _James_ ," said James Monroe, too eager as usual.

"Sorry," said James Madison, "but you know how my mom is." Aaron finished the note and drifted closer, careful to keep a respectful distance, hoping they wouldn't notice him.

"Ugh, yes, almost as much of an asshole as Laurens' dad," Thomas said. "Say no more. Speaking of Laurens, when do you think Marquis is going to have his first big party of the school year? Who knows, you might even be able to lay some pipe."

"I lay plenty of pipe," James Madison said defensively. Thomas just rolled his eyes.

"Not nearly enough. It's a shame really. You're actually quite attractive, in a nerdy sort of way. I'm almost embarrassed, and after all I've tried to teach you." Aaron was the one to notice the imposing figure that skulked down the hallway.

"Jefferson! Monroe! Madison!"

"Hey, Washy," Thomas said.

"That's Principal Washington to you. What are you three doing out of class?"

"Well, you see..." Thomas said slowly, eyes casting around as though searching for salvation. And that, that was the moment when Aaron decided to jump in. It was a matter of seconds to make the changes necessary, and then he strode forward boldly.

"We have permission, sir," he said. The Jeffersonians turned to look at him, and Aaron felt his face grow hot. "If you look right here- We're from Mr. Putnam's study hall, to the library." Washington looked at the paper and then at Aaron, his gaze seeming to pierce right through him. "We were just getting some stuff from our lockers, sir." Washington handed the yellow slip back to Aaron.

"Everything seems to be in order," he said slowly. "Go along now." Aaron nodded and began to head towards the library, only to be twisted around by the insistent hand of Thomas Jefferson.

"Well," said Thomas, a hint of admiration in his voice, "that was pretty slick, nerd."

"Thomas, be nice," murmured James Madison.

"Oh, it wasn't anything special," Aaron said.

"Know any other tricks?" Thomas said. His gaze was apprising, as though Aaron was a watch or a piece of meat.

"I also do report cards, permission slips, and absence notes," Aaron said.

"Prescription forms?"

"If you can get me the forms, I can fill them out," Aaron said. Thomas gave a slight smirk.

"I will admit, your knack for committing small infractions of the school rules without getting caught is interesting."

"And if we cut your face down the center with a machete, we'd have matching halves. That's very important," said James Monroe. Aaron mentally reassessed Monroe from "stupid" to "fucking terrifying."

"Your sense of style is terrible," James Madison said sheepishly, "but Thomas can fix that. Or maybe Marquis. He certainly helped me on that front." Aaron stared at them, completely lost.

"What on earth are you suggesting?" he said. Thomas stepped forward, smile almost predatory.

"I'd like to make you an offer, on a trial basis at first, of course. You agree to use your talents to furnish us and any of our friends with anything of that sort that we need. In return, you will become one of the Jeffersonians, with all the social perks that implies." Thomas held out his hand. "Have we got a deal?"

Aaron Burr stared at the hand. Was this what making a deal with the devil felt like?

"Deal," he said, and they shook on it.


	3. Chapter 3

_September 23rd, 1989_

Aaron enjoyed being one of the Jeffersonians more than he cared to admit.

He still hung out with his real friends, of course. He hoped that they didn't mind him sometimes spending an evening picking up drugs or sneaking into bars with the Jeffersonians. And, really, even though he hated how they treated everyone around them, he didn't join in. He wasn't the bad guy. He didn't make a big deal out of it either, of course, but he wasn't stupid. Aaron was walking the very thin line between becoming one of them and becoming dead meat, but he was good at it. At least, he was until Thomas pulled him aside after school one day.

"Marquis is having a big start of the year party tomorrow," he said. "This is your shot to become a big deal here at King's."

"What do you mean?" Aaron said.

"Look, you've been cute. You're useful and loyal, and I would love to have you in permanently," Thomas said, "but don't think I haven't noticed you still hanging around with those losers." Aaron tensed.

"Why do you care?" he said. "Who I hang with is none of your business."

"Actually, it is," Thomas said. "The company you keep reflect on all of us. If you really want to be a Jeffersonian, you have to prove to us that you're not one of those losers anymore."

"Look," said James Madison, "you have the talent and personality to be something. I know that it's hard to admit it, but they would drop you in a moment if they had this opportunity. You've already been with them longer than they deserve."

"Do you really want to fuck with us?" James Monroe said. "We could make you so unpopular that even they wouldn't want to talk to you. You could be a leper, a pariah... or you could be one of us, the greatest, most popular guys in the whole school." Aaron looked between the three of them. He was trapped. For once in his life, he had something to lose.

"What do I need to do?" he said cautiously. Thomas's smile could have made a shark jealous.

"Simple," he said. "You just have to forge a letter from, oh, let's say Laurens to... who's that girl you talk to all the time, the one with the stupid-ass name?"

"Theodosia?" Thomas shrugged.

"Sure, fine," he said. "Anyways, you forge a letter to her, inviting her to Marquis's party tomorrow."

"I can't do that!" Aaron said.

"Oh, so you want to be a fucking loser?" James Monroe said. "It's a shame, we had such high hopes for you."

"It would really be better to just do what Thomas says," James Madison said. "Chances are that she would do the same thing to you if he asked her to. Why would you want to protect someone who doesn't care about you as much as you care about her?"

"What are you waiting for?" Thomas said. "This will prove you're not a lameass anymore. This will get you into every party, open every door, and all you have to do is slip some bitch a little note."

Their arguments circled Aaron like vultures around roadkill. He hadn't realized how deep in he was until this moment, when he was being asked to betray everyone who he had ever been friends with. But... at the same time, Aaron wanted to have that prestige so much that it hurt. He wanted to be popular in the way only being a Jeffersonian could give him. And the Jeffersonians weren't lying, he really could be thrown down so low that not even Theodosia would want to talk to him. He didn't want to be a dick, but he didn't think he could go back to being a loser after seeing how people treated him when he walked next to Thomas Jefferson.

Aaron couldn't look Theodosia in the eye when she came up to him later, gushing excitedly about being invited to Marquis's party by Laurens. He didn't know if he could and not tell her what he'd done.


	4. Chapter 4

_September 17th, 1989_

The party was loud and crowded and honestly Aaron wasn't sure that he liked it. No matter where he went it stunk of sweat and liquor. Dark shapes twisted on couches and in corners, and Aaron could barely walk without stepping in something. Thomas and James Madison were still with him, though they had been getting gradually more handsy with each other and Aaron didn't think they'd stick around much longer. James Monroe was off making out with a freshman on the cheer squad, or maybe two, Aaron couldn't tell.

"Well, how do you like it,  _mon amie_?" a voice whispered in his ear. Aaron jumped, and then he relaxed when he saw that it was only Marquis.

"Aaron is refusing to drink," Thomas said too loudly, his hand down the back of James' pants. "At this rate he will actually remember the party tomorrow."

"Well, that is no way to be,  _mon amie_ ," Marquis said, laughing as he handed Aaron... something. It burned on its way down, and Aaron suspected that it should have been in a shot glass. Whatever. "Come, help me find Laurens. I have a feeling that these two will want some privacy." Aaron almost ran after Marquis, prompting him to laugh again. "Have you never seen Thomas and James together before?"

"I didn't know they were like  _that_ ," Aaron muttered. Marquis's eyes narrowed. "I don't have a problem with it. I just didn't realize that they were so..." He gestured vaguely around the room, and Marquis grinned, petting Aaron's head.

"You have not been to a party before, no?" 

"Nothing like this," Aaron admitted. "I didn't expect it to be quite so..." Marquis handed him another drink, a beer this time, and Aaron downed it gratefully. "I mean, it's not like I've been around these guys long."

"How did you fall in with the Jeffersonians anyways?" Marquis asked. "One day you were not, and the next day you just were. What made Thomas want you?"

"I saved their asses from Washington," Aaron said. 

"Ah, a true hero," Marquis said, raising his bottle, and then he was distracted by something across the room. "Look, it is my Laurens!" Marquis pulled him across the room.

"Marquis! Gil!" Laurens was probably the drunkest person in the room. He stumbled into Marquis's arms, giggling. "Who's with you? He's cute."

"Laurens, this is the hero that slew George Washington." Laurens laughed, and then he put a sloppy kiss on... well, he seemed to be aiming for Marquis's mouth, but he ended up more on his chin. Then he turned to Aaron.

"You! Aren't you that guy Thomas likes?" 

"I'm the one he gets his late passes from." Before he knew it, Aaron had an armful of football player slumping over him, nose nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

"Mmm, you're warm. Isn't he warm, Gil?"

"Indeed," Marquis said, obviously amused by Aaron's discomfort. "But surely he isn't as warm as I am,  _mon amour_?" Laurens gave Aaron's neck a bruising kiss.

"I want a threesome. He's cute." Marquis glanced at Aaron.

"Is a  _ménage à trois_ agreeable,  _mon amie_?" he said. Aaron squirmed when Laurens put a hand on his ass.

"Um, I'll pass," he said. Marquis shrugged and took Laurens from him, muttering things in French that Aaron was sure were incredibly dirty.

Just then commotion at the door caught all of their attention. Someone was there who didn't belong.

"Hi, Laurens! Hi, Marquis! Oh... hi, Aaron," Theodosia said. Aaron stumbled backwards, but it was only to bump into Thomas. When had he gotten there? "I'm so glad you invited me, Laurens!" Laurens blinked, squinting through the blur of alcohol.

"Yo, who the F is this?" he said. "Did I drink bad gin again, Marquis?"

"You invited me," said Theodosia, less certain now. Thomas's fingers were tight on Aaron's shoulder, holding him in place.

"I don't even know who you are; why the fuck would I invite you?" Laurens was distracted by Marquis's hand in his hair. "Whatever. Did you bring booze?"

"Well... I brought sparkling cider?" Laurens burst out laughing, and suddenly the sound was echoing around them. Theodosia looked like she was almost in tears, and Aaron wanted to throw up when-

"Hey, assholes!" Everything stopped, and all eyes seemed too look around for the source of the voice. "Why don't you thank her? Oh, wait, I forgot, you're all complete dicks."

The guy was this tiny Latino kid with eyes too big for his face and hair down to his shoulders. He wore an over-sized, scratchy-looking sweater, and with every point he made he slid the sleeves up his twig-like arms a little more. He marched forward, past where Theodosia stood frozen, right up to Laurens.

"Now, apologize, or I swear to God I will fight every last one of you right now. I can fuck you right up, so you'd better start-" Laurens started to giggle, and the kid punched him.

So, that was how Aaron got to witness the fight that almost got Laurens and Marquis expelled. Even as he recounted it to the police later, he wanted to know who that kid had been. He wanted to know how he had done what Aaron was too scared to do. After the interview, he asked the police what the kid's name was. They told him that his name was Alexander Hamilton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, so Alex is finally in the story! That took way too long.


	5. Chapter 5

_September 18th, 1989_

Aaron hadn't meant to pursue Alexander Hamilton. He was more than happy to just know his name and think over what he'd done. But when he saw Alexander in the 7/11 right by school, he had to talk to him.

"Hey! Alexander!" The kid turned, stance defensive and ready for a fight, glaring at Aaron.

"What do you want?" he spat.

"I just want to talk to you." Alexander didn't relax his ready stance, but he also wasn't fighting Aaron yet. "I saw what you did at the party-"

"Oh, are you going to get on me for punching that asshole?"

"Of course not." Alexander stared at him, and Aaron shifted awkwardly. "Look, I- Laurens can be an idiot, I know that. And I want to thank you for standing up to him." Alexander moved closer, and Aaron tried not to step back. The kid was like a wild animal, looking like he would run away if Aaron spooked him. Aaron didn't want him to run away.

"Why would you thank me? You're one of those Jeffersonians. Aren't you supposed to-"

"Look, it's complicated," Aaron said. "Can't you just accept a compliment?"

"Well, what am I supposed to think when one of the guys who does that kind of shit comes up and thanks me for punching his buddy?" Aaron snorted noncommittally, looking around the dirty gas station.

"What are you doing here anyways?" he said.

"Slushies," Alexander said. "Slushies and Mountain Dew and candy."

"Wow, you're so healthy. Does your mom know you eat all that shit?"

"Not anymore. She's dead." Aaron flinched and Alexander sipped his slushie.

"I'm sorry. It's difficult losing a parent."  _Or two_ , Aaron thought, remembering his own mother and father. Alexander shrugged.

"Whatever," he said. "It was years ago. I'm not supposed to care anymore."

"So it's just you and your dad?" Aaron should have dropped the conversation. He knew how annoying it was to get the sympathy and questions that came with having a dead parent, but he couldn't help it. He wanted to know everything about this kid, as though understanding Alexander's past could also make him understand how he was brave enough to take a stand against everything Aaron had always just went along with.

"Nope, he split when I was... ten, I think. No idea where he is anymore. No, I'm in the foster system, though not for much longer. As soon as I turn 18 I'm leaving." Alexander's brow furrowed.

"You okay?"

"Great. It's just brain-freeze." Alexander looked at Aaron carefully. "Why are you so interested in me?"

"Theodosia used to be a friend," Aaron said.

"Used to be?" Aaron winced.

"I don't think she wants to have anything to do with me anymore."

"I don't blame her. You're kind of a dick."

"I'm not a dick," Aaron said. He hadn't asked to be judged by this kid.

"Well, you're a Jeffersonian. That's one hint."

"It's not like I do any of the shit they do."

"You don't do anything about it, either," Alexander said.

"That's not fair," said Aaron. "You can't judge me by what Thomas fucking Jefferson does."

"If you don't do anything, I can only judge you on the people you hang out with. If you stand for nothing, Burr, what do you fall for?"

"I'm trying not to fall at all," Aaron said. "Look, as far as I'm concerned, the whole school can go to hell. I'm just marking time, waiting for when I can go to college."

"Than why don't you speak up if you don't care what the Jeffersonians think of you?" Aaron glared, and Alexander grinned. "See, you care more about high school than you want to admit."

"Well, excuse me if I don't want to get fucking murdered by Thomas," Aaron said. "And don't try to say that I'm just paranoid. Would you honestly put it past him?" Alexander considered it for a moment, and then he shrugged.

"You still shouldn't equivocate on your opinion," he said. "I never would. When you're gone from this place, that's all that's left. You're remembered based on what you did, what you said, what you stood for. I'd rather be remembered as someone who had a shorter life and stood for something than as someone who lived a long time but never stood for anything." Alexander grinned and tossed Burr a chocolate bar, almost as an apology for his harsh critique. "Still, you don't seem terrible. At least, I haven't punched you yet. You are a wimp though." Aaron rolled his eyes, but inside he was glowing. He was beginning to realize that he secretly admired this stupid, fiery kid who was everything he wanted to be. It was good that Alexander thought he wasn't terrible. Maybe he still had a shot at being something besides a hypocrite and an asshole. Maybe he still had a shot at redemption.

"Huh," he said, considering the candy bar. Alexander gave him a look.

"You're a weird guy, Burr," he said, and then he left the 7/11. 


	6. Chapter 6

_October 2nd, 1989_

Things between Aaron and the Jeffersonians had been... tense. He hadn't been kicked out; Thomas hadn't even mentioned what had happened at the party. But Aaron knew that sooner or later the other shoe would drop, and Thomas would require some greater sign of his dedication to the Jeffersonians.

That sign was required of him on the second day of October. Aaron was working on his Physics homework in the school library when he looked up and saw Thomas, James Monrow, and James Madison towering over him.

"Look, Aaron, we gave you a chance to prove yourself at the party," Thomas said. "And, yes, you did what we required, but there was no passion in it. In fact, if I didn't know better, I'd say that you didn't want to obey me at all." Aaron knew a threat when he heard one. He wasn't stupid. His only chance of getting out intact was to play it off as though he had no idea what Jefferson was talking about.

"What do you want me to do?" he said. Thomas gave James Monroe a signal, and Aaron found himself sprawled on the floor. His hands curled into fists, but he didn't fight back.

"See, this is what I mean," Thomas said. "You never completely dedicate yourself to the Jeffersonians. You act like you can both be one of us and friends with those losers. But you should know better." Thomas knelt, his knee pressed into Aaron's stomach. "I'm not getting rid of you right away, you're too useful for that. So I'm going to give you one one chance to become one of us. You remember that little asshole who started the fight at Marquis's party?" Aaron nodded. "Destroy him."

"And what if I refuse?" Thomas's knee ground into Aaron.

"That would be a shame," he said. "After all, you're so close to being part of the greatest group of friends at King's. But if you refuse to do as I say, I could... well, there's very little I can't do. Make you a pariah. Get you expelled, your chances at college ruined. Of maybe I will keep you around for your talents and lend you out to the football team on the weekends. Marquis and Laurens seemed to take a special interest in you at the party, and they can be very... insistent."

This was Aaron's worst nightmare. He should have never gotten involved with the Jeffersonians in the first place. He should have been content with his real friends, free from Thomas and his machinations. But, no, he had to try to get in, he had to take Thomas's offer. Now look at where that had gotten him.

"How can I destroy Alexander Hamilton? I need some direction here," Aaron said.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll figure something out," said Thomas, winking as he stood. "You have one week, Aaron. Destroy him, or I'll use all my resources to make your life a living hell... or perhaps I'll put you down there myself." Aaron was left on the floor, trembling, though whether it was from anger or fear he had no idea.

Aaron couldn't do something like that to Alexander. He didn't know much, but he knew that. He couldn't destroy Alexander, not after what the other boy had done for Theodosia, but that meant that he would be ruined by the most powerful student in the school. He had no friends, no support, no way of even trying to counteract the death sentence. Aaron stood, taking deep gulps of air.

One week. He had one week to put his affairs in order, and then...

He didn't even want to think of what would happen afterwards. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dubcon warning for this chapter. Drunk foreplay with implications of drunk sex.

_October 7th, 1989_

Aaron had one more night. The next morning his time would be up, and Thomas would... Aaron shuddered and popped the cap off his fifth beer. At least he was celebrating his last night by getting outrageously drunk.

Aaron didn't want to be dead or worse. He hated himself for being such a pussy, but he really didn't want to face Thomas the next morning. No matter what way he looked at it, he was finished, and that terrified him even more than the idea of what Thomas could do to him.

Alexander Hamilton was worth it. Even through the haze of alcohol Aaron knew that. Alexander was nicer and better and hotter... Hotter? Yes, Alexander was hotter than Aaron. He didn't have to give into the Jeffersonian to feel like he was worth something. Alexander was... Alexander was like gold. He had innate value and he stabilized the value of other, lesser forms of people. Would Aaron be worth more because he was helping Alexander?

Aaron sat up in bed quickly, ignoring the way the room pitched and whirled around him. Was he helping Alexander? If he didn't ruin him, Thomas would. Thomas was worse than Aaron could ever be, he knew that. Aaron stood, stumbling over to where his notebook lay. Thomas had given him the address of Alexander's foster home. Aaron looked at it, realizing slowly that it was only a few blocks away.

The air was too cold and the streetlights were too bright, but Aaron had to get to Alexander. He had to warn him, to protect him. Maybe Alexander would even find a way out of the shit-storm that Aaron had created for himself. In his drunken state, Aaron didn't even stop to consider how it would look, him stumbling into Alexander's house.

There was a light on in one of the bedrooms. Aaron peeked inside, and he saw Alexander sitting at his desk, notebooks full of cramped writing spread across the surface. Aaron tried to slide his fingernails under the windowpane, but a difficult task was made impossible by the darkness and beer. After a few futile tries, Aaron knocked at the window desperately. Alexander jumped, and then he ran over to the window, flinging it open.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he said. Aaron oozed through the window, draping himself limply over Alexander.

"I gotta warn you," Aaron said. Alexander looked at him critically.

"You're drunk," he said.

"I gotta waaarn you." Alexander lay Aaron on his bed, but Aaron grabbed his shirt when he tried to pull away. "Thomas wants me to hurt you. I won't, I never will, but he's gonna do it if I don't . Tomorrow's my deadline." Alexander was above him, and Aaron tugged him down, trying to kiss him. Alexander pulled away again, and Aaron made a frustrated noise.

"Do you know what he's going to do?" Alexander said.

"He wanted me to destroy you. I don't wanna destroy you."

"You don't have to destroy me," Alexander said. Aaron squirmed until his leg touched Alexander's.

"Good," he said. "I like you. I don't wanna destroy you. I never wanted to hurt anyone." Suddenly Aaron felt the urge to cry. "I never wanted to hurt anyone, but I don't wanna be hurt either." Alexander tensed.

"What do you mean?" he said.

"Thomas said that if I didn't destroy you, he'd hurt me." Alexander's hands clasped around Aaron's biceps, fingernails digging into his skin.

"What did he say he'd do?" Aaron shook his head, and the fingernails bit harder. "What did he say to you?"

"He- he said he'd get me expelled or kicked out or-" Aaron bit his tongue, and the pain and the blood cleared away some of the beer's haze. "Or lend me to Marquis and Laurens." Alexander's lips on his forehead were cool and chapped, and Aaron leaned into them, closing his eyes.

"That bastard is not going to hurt you," Alexander said. Aaron had never heard such cold fury outside of the movies. "No one's ever going to so much as touch you again." Aaron beamed and kissed Alexander on his lips sloppily. In his inebriated state Alexander's promise seemed to hold meaning, as though just saying it made it real. Alexander winded a possessive hand around the back of Aaron's neck and began to grind on Aaron.

Aaron felt safe.


	8. Chapter 8

_October 8th, 1989_

Aaron woke with a splitting headache and aching ass. It took a few moments for the events of the previous night to reassemble themselves in his mind, but when they finally did Aaron groaned.

He'd gone to Alexander's house. He'd been drunk and half hysterical and he'd gone to Alexander's house, spilled everything to the one person who he shouldn't have told. Thomas was going to kill him. Worse, Alexander was going to kill him.

The door of the room, which Aaron was slowly realizing must have been Alexander's, opened, and Alexander entered with only a towel around his waist. Aaron blinked at him, and then he slowly realized why his ass hurt. Well, that was embarrassing. He'd known that he admired Alexander, but he hadn't realized that it went that far.

"Oh, hey, you're awake," Alexander said. Aaron sat up, looking around for his clothes.

"Um, about last night..." Aaron said awkwardly, picking up his underwear and trying to put it on without Alexander seeing... that. Alexander waved a hand.

"I get it," he said. "You were drunk and emotional and wanted some. I get it. It was just sex." As much as Aaron wanted to tell Alexander that, no, it wasn't just sex, he wanted more than sex, he was grateful that Alexander seemed willing to drop the subject so easily.

"Alright," Aaron said. "And you'll be careful about Thomas?" Alexander looked at him, confused, but he nodded.

"Don't worry, I'll find a way to deal with him," Alexander said. "He won't be able to hurt either of us."

"Wait, don't," Aaron said. "You can't take on Thomas, he'll-" Alexander rolled his eyes and shut Aaron up with a kiss. Aaron was left surprised both by the kiss and by how much he wanted Alexander to do it again.

"Thomas is only human," Alexander said darkly. "Don't worry, I've dealt with assholes like him before."

"What are you going to do?" Alexander smiled, and Aaron frowned. Through the hangover that made everything slow and stupid in his head, he was slowly beginning to doubt Alexander, though in what he wasn't sure.

"Don't worry about it," Alexander said. "Just go get dressed in something and wait for today at lunch." Aaron opened his mouth to protest, to ask for more details, but Alexander was already gone.

No matter what Aaron's doubts, he could be patient. He could wait for whatever it was that Alexander was planning. The only question in his mind was how much he'd have to go through before lunch and his salvation came.


	9. Chapter 9

_October 8th, 1989_

Aaron didn’t see any of the Jeffersonians over his first two periods. Once again, it was during his study hall that he was forced to face them.

“So,” Thomas said, cornering Aaron by his open locker. Aaron looked around, but the hallway was deserted, everyone having already gotten to class. Even if there had been anyone, Aaron knew they wouldn’t have helped him, not in the face of Thomas. “I gave you a week. Why do I see Alexander Hamilton still alive and well?” Aaron didn’t answer. “Was I not clear? Answer me!” A hand threw his shoulder against the next locker with a bang.

“I’m not going to do it,” Aaron said. “Find someone else to do your dirty work. I’m done.” James Monroe’s arm was across his throat, pressing him against the locker, choking him.

“Say that again, bitch,” he said. Thomas waved a hand airily, and Monroe’s grip slackened slightly.

“I’m not doing it,” Aaron said again, voice a mere whisper from the chokehold. “I’m done. I’ll have nothing to do with it.” Monroe let go at last, and Aaron slumped against the locker, panting.

“Are you really going to start a fight with us?” Thomas said. Aaron glared at him, but he didn’t say anything. “I’ll take that as a yes. Well, I’m going to tell you something.” He leaned down, lips near Aaron’s ear. “All the things that you fear the most- that’s what I’m going to do to you. You will be begging for death by the time I’m done.” Thomas bit down on the cartilage of Aaron’s ear, crunching and tearing at it. Aaron bit his tongue and managed not to cry out. Thomas pulled away and spat blood in Aaron’s face. “This should be fun,” he said.

Monroe, almost as if signaled, pulled Aaron’s arms behind his back as Thomas opened his locker door wider. Aaron fought, but they easily shoved him in, hooks digging painfully into his back and neck. The door closed, and Aaron held his breath. Liquid poured through the vent at the top of the locker, and Aaron finally screamed as it seared his skin.

“Oops,” Thomas said. “You owe me a coffee, fag.”

Aaron stayed completely still until they had gone away. Then he tried to find a way out. There was, he knew, a stop on the back side of the door that he could use to lift the handle and free himself, but he had no way of getting the lock itself undone. Desperate and claustrophobic, Aaron tried to bang against the door, but there was too little room for him to make much noise. He was trapped.

Running footsteps came down the hallway and stopped outside his locker. Aaron froze. Was it a teacher there to help him? Or was it Thomas and the rest of them, back to do something else to him?

“Aaron! Aaron, are you alright?” Aaron relaxed as soon as he heard Alexander’s voice.

“I’m fine,” he said. The locker handle rattled.

“What’s your code?”

“1-8-0-4,” Aaron said. A few moments later the door opened and Aaron stumbled out. Alexander caught him and looked him over gently, snarling at the bitten ear and coffee burns. 

“I’m going to fucking kill them,” he said. Aaron just pressed his forehead into Alexander’s shoulder. 

“How did you find me?” Aaron said.

“James Madison told me. Fucking ferret, I didn’t even have to touch him.” Alexander dropped a kiss on the top of Aaron’s head. “Don’t worry. Everything ends at lunch today.” He pulled out two small packets that looked like the sugar or salt you got at fast food places.

“What are those?” Aaron said.

“These are silica gel. You’re going to put them in Thomas’s food at lunch today.”

“What will they do?” Alexander shrugged.

“Oh, they’ll make him sick. Puking up blood, the whole shebang. He’ll go to the hospital, and you’ll be free. After all, three weeks is a long time to be away from one’s position as the king bitch of high school.” Alexander smiled. “If you can get him alone, all the better. I don’t want anyone to accidentally see you put the stuff in his food.”

“He said I owe him coffee,” Aaron said. Alexander’s fingertips ghosted over the coffee burns. “If I know anything about Thomas, he’ll want me to deliver it to him around the back of the school.” Alexander nodded, satisfied.

“Good. Just follow my instructions, and Thomas will never hurt you again.”

Aaron did as he was told. After buying the coffee, he put the contents of the two packets into the drink, stirring until the particles were dissolved. Then he walked back to King’s High School, afraid of what might happen but eager to be rid of the axe that hung above him. Thomas was waiting.

“You’re late,” he said.

“Sorry.” The apology grated in Aaron’s throat, but he had to play the part. When Thomas drank the coffee, everything would be over.

“I must admit that I’m impressed,” Thomas said. “I didn’t expect you to get out of the locker in time for your next class. I guess I’ll have to try harder next time.” Aaron shuddered. He didn’t want to imagine what Thomas could do to him.

As Thomas took a long, deep sip, Aaron saw Alexander creeping around the corner of the school, a strange, dark look in his eyes. Aaron was going to try to get Alexander to go back, to not be seen by Thomas, but at that moment Thomas fell to his knees, groaning and choking. After a few moments, he twitched weakly and then was still. Aaron stood, frozen, as Alexander walked forward and felt Thomas’s neck for a pulse.

“He’s dead,” Alexander said, voice only slightly shocked.

“What?” Aaron dropped down next to Alexander, trying to find a pulse for himself. There was nothing. “Oh, God. We killed him. Alexander, what are we going to do?” Alexander sat back on his heels, face thoughtful.

“Aaron, you can do Thomas’s handwriting, right?” Aaron nodded, and Alexander shoved a notebook and pen into his hands. “There’s only one thing we can do. We have to make it look like a suicide.”

“What?” Aaron said, standing. “Are you insane?” Alexander looked up at him, face set and determined.

“We can’t have them know that we accidentally killed him,” he said.

“Was it an accident?”

“Of course! I wanted to hurt him, not to kill him.” Alexander looked down at the body. “But it’s too late for that now. We have to save our own skins. Don’t you trust me?” Aaron nodded reluctantly and began the suicide note. When he was done he crumpled it up and clasped it into Thomas’s hand. Then he and Alexander glanced at each other and ran away.


	10. Chapter 10

_ October 8th, 1989 _

It took only a few hours for the speakers to crackle to life and announce a special assembly. Aaron shuffled down the hallway like all the others, anxiety knotting in his stomach. As they settled in the auditorium, he caught Alexander’s eyes from across the room. Alexander nodded at him and gave a reassuring smile, which Aaron tried to return. But his smile disappeared when Washington took the stage, face crestfallen.

“Students of King’s High School,” he said solemnly, “I have some very serious and sad news. A few hours ago, we found out that Thomas Jefferson, a senior here, committed suicide by ingesting rat poison.” There was a collective gasp from the audience, and Aaron gasped with them, but for a different reason. He tried to catch Alexander’s eyes again, but Alexander was staring at the stage, face expressionless. Aaron could have thrown up.

“We know that this will be difficult for you to process,” Washington said, “so the administration has told me to read you the contents of Thomas Jefferson’s suicide note.” Washington took a familiar sheet of paper from his pocket and smoothed it out, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Aaron listened numbly as Washington read the note. Alexander had lied to him. Alexander had known that there was rat poison and not silica in those packets. Aaron didn’t know how he was supposed to react. On one hand, he hadn’t wanted to kill Thomas, and Alexander had lied to him to make sure that Thomas would die. On the other hand… Aaron couldn’t deny the feeling of relief that refused to leave. Thomas was dead. Alexander had fulfilled his promise in the most extreme way possible. It was true, now, that Thomas would never touch him again.

Aaron wouldn’t have been able to do it if he had known. Maybe Alexander should have told him, or maybe Alexander had simply done what he had to do to get rid of that horrible threat. But Aaron couldn’t stop the fact that he didn’t regret Thomas’s death.

“What the fuck was that about?” He said to Alexander when he cornered him after the assembly. Alexander didn’t even look ashamed.

“I had to do it,” he said. “I couldn’t let him live after this morning. After I saw you like that, and what he did to you… I replaced the silica with rat poison.”

“Alexander-”

“Don’t tell me that he didn’t deserve it.” Aaron couldn’t argue with that.

“It’s not a matter of what he deserved. You can’t just kill people when they’re assholes! You don’t have the right to decide who lives and who dies!”

“And what gave him the right to hurt you?” Alexander’s voice was ragged, and he reached out to cup Aaron’s cheek. “You’re the only hope left in this hopeless world, and I am willing to do whatever it takes to protect that.” Alexander’s mouth was on his only for a moment, a mere brush of lips, but it still made Aaron nervous. He looked around, paranoid that someone would overhear them or see them.

“What if they find out what you did?” Aaron said. “I’m not worth you-”

“You’re worth everything,” Alexander said, and he sounded as though he believed it. “You look at me and it’s like you see through all the bullshit and the lies. I can’t hide or turn you away.” His hand rested on the back of Aaron’s neck, firm and possessive. “Too many people have vanished for me to let the world take you too, especially at the whim of a dick like Thomas Jefferson.”

“Don’t kill anyone else,” Aaron said. When Alexander didn’t answer, Aaron kissed him lightly. “Promise me that.”

“Aaron…” The hesitation in Alexander’s voice was frightening. “I promise.”

“Good, that’s all I’m asking.” Part of Aaron wondered whether he should have asked for more than a reluctant promise, but he couldn’t help but trust Alexander. After all, he couldn’t think of one other person who had stood up for him in that Godforsaken high school, and Alexander, it seemed, was willing to do anything.


	11. Chapter 11

_October 13th, 1989_

Things had been… strange since Thomas had died. Aaron hadn’t been welcome anywhere, it seemed. James Monroe had glared at him across the room, looking as though he was ready to take out a gun and shoot him down if he so much as spoke to him. Theodosia had been ignoring him, not that he blamed her, as had all of his old friends. Alexander clinged to him like moss to a rock, which… Aaron wouldn’t say that he minded it, but the looks they garnered made him uncomfortable. And James Madison…

Aaron went into the bathroom, without Alexander following like a shadow for once. He was washing his hands when he heard a muffled sobbing in one of the stalls. Aaron hesitated, but he was done with being an ass just because he was afraid. He knocked on the stall door hesitantly.

“Fuck off.” The voice was slightly hoarse from crying, but it was unmistakably James Madison.

“Hey, it’s me,” Aaron said. “Are you okay?” There was a pause, and then the door swung open. James Madison stood there, wiping away his tears with an oversized sweater that Aaron recognized as one of Thomas’s.

“What do you want?” James said. Aaron shrugged.

“I heard someone crying,” he said. “Are you alright?”

“What the fuck do you think?” Aaron suddenly realized that he had never heard James Madison swear before that bathroom stall. “My b- Thomas is dead, and I couldn’t do anything. I didn’t even realize that anything was wrong until it was too late.” Suddenly Aaron found himself with an armful of sobbing James Madison. “I couldn’t do anything, I couldn’t help him. All he had to do was tell me, but I couldn’t even-“

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” Aaron hesitantly wrapped his arms around James, and the smaller boy melted into him. “I know it’s tough to lose someone. I miss him too.”

“No, you don’t,” James said. “He was an asshole to you. I knew he could be an asshole, but he was also- He was the first person I came out to, and he never made me feel like it changed anything. And I know that being nice that one time doesn’t take away everything else, but for me it did. And then he asked me out, and I-“

“I get it.” And Aaron did, really. Why else would he feel something that he was coming closer and closer to calling love for a murderer? “He was nice to you, and he like you. Everyone’s got their strong points.”

“After he pushed you into that locker and called you a-“ Aaron nodded. “I yelled at him. I wish I hadn’t done that now. God, that sounds horrible. I don’t regret defending you, not at all, but I wish that our last conversation hadn’t been a fight.” James nuzzled into Aaron’s shirt, and Aaron held him closer. “I just- I wonder if he wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t fought with him.”

“I don’t- People don’t kill themselves over one conversation,” Aaron said. “It’s not your fault.” For the first time, Aaron began to regret what had happened. He hadn’t like Thomas, and he had no doubt that the torture would have continued, but… James Madison was crying, and the school still seemed to be in shock, and everything seemed to be falling apart at the seams. Aaron wished that he could go back a month and refuse Thomas’s offer. He wished that he had never gone to King’s High School.

“James, I have something to-“ He stopped when James gasped.

“I forgot,” he said. “I have to tell you- Monroe’s going to keep doing what Thomas was doing.” Aaron felt sick.

“What?” he said. James nodded.

“Apparently he’s going to-“ The door of the bathroom swung open, and both of them froze. There was James Monroe. When he saw them, he broke into a grin. James Madison quietly left Aaron’s arms and scurried over to Monroe’s side.

“Well, judging by that, Aaron, I may have to rethink your next punishment,” James Monroe said. “A fag like you would probably like it.”

“What do you want, Monroe?” Aaron said, wishing that he wasn’t forced to look up at the other boy from the cold floor.

“I’ve been talking to Marquis and John Laurens,” James Monroe said. He smiled wider when Aaron flinched. “I’ve told them how much you would love being their fuck toy.” 

“Call it off,” Aaron said.

“You should be happy. I got you a date Saturday night. Go to Marquis’s place at nine, and don’t be late. I’ll cut off your dick if you try to get out of it.” James Monroe and James Madison left the bathroom, and Aaron turned to the toilet. He didn’t throw up, but it was a near thing. He didn’t want to have sex with Marquis and Laurens, but he had no choice. He wouldn’t put it past Monroe to go through with his threat.

The bathroom door slammed open. “Aaron!” That was when the tears began to fall. Alexander was right there, but Aaron wasn’t safe. He would never be safe. “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Alexander’s arms wound around him, and Aaron forced himself to relax, to breath.

“Who made you cry?” Aaron hated the tender fury in Alexander’s voice. He didn’t want anyone else to die, but there was no other option. He could tell Alexander, or he could be-

“M-Monroe,” he said. “Monroe and Marquis and Laurens.” Alexander held him closer, tightening his grip like a vise.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll take care of it.”

“No,” Aaron said. He didn’t know what else he’d do, but he wasn’t going to be complicit in another murder. “No, I can- You shouldn’t. You shouldn’t kill people.”

“Fuck it.” Alexander kissed the top of Aaron’s head. “Aaron, I’m damaged. Eventually I’m going to end up in jail or dead. But you,” he sounded as though he had found a god, “you’re beautiful, perfect. I can’t let them hurt you. I can’t let them ruin that.”

“Alexander…”

“Don’t try to tell me that I’m wrong.” Aaron wanted to cry. There was nothing he wanted more than to give in, to let Alexander take care of everything, but he couldn’t.

“Please just go,” Aaron said. He disentangled himself and left the bathroom, leaving Alexander on the floor, dumbstruck, behind him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Non-Con warning for this chapter. Because apparently that's what y'all wanted.

_October 14th, 1989_

Aaron rung the doorbell of Marquis's house and then stood back. The house (practically a mansion) loomed over him as though it was about to engulf him, but, no, he was going willingly into the lion's den. He had to. He couldn't let Alexander take care of things in his increasingly trademark fashion.

Marquis opened the door and grinned. Aaron could see Laurens behind him, sitting halfway up the flying marble stairs. Marquis threw his arms around him, and Aaron forced himself not to tense up.

" _Mon petite ami_!" Marquis said. "You have no idea my joy when I heard from Monroe your desire to join me and _mon amour_ in bed." Aaron didn't answer, but he allowed himself to be led into the house and up the stairs to a plain white door. Marquis's hand pressed into his back, and Aaron opened the door. Behind it was a bedroom. The king-sized bed had sheets that probably cost more than Aaron would make in his entire life, and Marquis pushed him into the downy pillows, almost engulfing him.

"No, have you ever had a threesome before?" John Laurens said. Aaron shook his head. Marquis grinned again. God, would he ever stop grinning?

"Little Aaron is nervous, John. Don't worry, _mon ami_. Just lie back and let us take care of everything." Well, Aaron could thank whatever God there was for small mercies. He didn't know if he could have found the courage to continue, to not take the out that would lead to a massacre, if he had to be an active participant.

Marquis and John began to make out. Then Marquis broke away and began to gently undress Aaron, taking his time with unbuttoning each button of his shirt and pulling down his zipper. Aaron obediently lifted his hips, allowing Marquis to slip his pants and underwear off as well as his shirt. Laurens pressed a hard kiss to his lips, and Aaron let him, yielding more and more as Laurens pressed harder, barely able to breath.

"God," Laurens said, "you're so fucking hot, Aaron. So hot when you-" He grabbed Aaron's dick and began to stroke, and Aaron felt heat slowly, reluctantly pool in his stomach.

Marquis took out a bottle of lube and squirted some into his hand. Aaron felt one finger work its way into his ass, and then another. He tensed, and Marquis murmured something in French.

"Hurry up, Gil," Laurens said. Marquis gave him a quick kiss.

" _Mon ami_ is so tense and tight. You don't want to hurt him, _mon amour_." Laurens grunted, and then he bent down and wrapped his lips around Aaron's cock. Aaron gasped and arched his back, and even he couldn't be sure whether he was trying to get away or give Laurens more. Marquis laughed approvingly and somehow fit a third finger in, pressing in and out until the movement felt natural. Then his fingers left and something larger nudged at Aaron's entrance.

"Marquis, I-" Aaron cut himself off, but Marquis looked at him curiously.

"What is it, _mon ami_?" he said.

"I don't know if I can..." Marquis nodded at Laurens.

"You go first, _mon amour_. After all, you are thinner than I."

"Fuck you, Gil," Laurens said. Marquis grinned.

"Not today, _mon amour_. We can't let little Aaron feel left out." Laurens replaced Marquis between Aaron's legs, and Aaron felt his dick breach him. Aaron winced slightly, and Laurens froze, but when Aaron nodded he continued. He began a slow, rocking rhythm that left Aaron breathing raggedly. Marquis was licking and biting his way down his neck, and Laurens was digging his fingernails into his legs, and Aaron just wanted it to be over. He just wanted to be able to leave.

_Crack!_

Aaron tensed as Laurens' head burst open and blood and brains showered over him. Marquis's arms grabbed Aaron tight, and Aaron couldn't understand the rapid French that poured from his mouth.

"Are you insane?" Marquis said, in English at last. "Why did you kill him? Oh, God, why are you doing this?" The window flew open, and Alexander entered, shotgun pointed at Marquis.

"Get the fuck away from him," Alexander said. Marquis held Aaron closer and shook his head. "I'm giving you one more chance. Stop touching him, or I'll blow a hole in your head too."

"Alexander, I told you I can take care of-" Aaron said, but Alexander silenced him with a snarl.

"I'm not letting him rape you. He doesn't deserve to so much as look at you."

"I- I think you misunderstand. _Mon ami_ and us- this is... how you say? _A cte sexuel consensuel_?" Aaron could have thrown up. Either Marquis was lying to save his own ass, or Monroe had lied to Marquis and Laurens. Aaron knew which of those options seemed more likely. After all, Marquis and Laurens had been nothing but considerate and careful since he had come there. If they had been willing to stop when Aaron seemed uncomfortable, he couldn't see them not stopping if he had-  


"Like. Hell," Alexander said. Another blast, and Marquis was dead as well. Aaron didn't move as their blood pooled and mingled on the expensive sheets. Alexander found his clothes and threw them at him, but Aaron couldn't move. The world seemed to have turned upside down.

"We need to hide this," Alexander said. "Do another suicide note." He looked at the dead, naked bodies and laughed slightly. "Something about a suicide pact and a gay love affair. They deserve to have their secret spilled for what they did to you."

"Alexander..." Alexander wrapped his arms around Aaron, but it didn't make Aaron feel safer. "Alexander, I'm not doing it again."

"Do you want us to go to jail?"

"I'm not doing it. It's not right."

"Aaron, they _raped_ you." Aaron shook his head. "No, they raped you, they hurt you. We can't let them get away with that."

"They're dead," Aaron said. "Alexander, they're dead. You killed them. It was bad enough with Thomas, but they-" They hadn't meant to. Monroe had lied to them, and Aaron hadn't given them any reason to doubt what they'd been told. It didn't make Aaron feel any less dirty after what had happened, but... they hadn't deserved to die. He was just beginning to realize that no one really deserved to die.

"Aaron, I need your help," Alexander said impatiently, but Aaron shook his head, more firmly this time.

"No," he said. "I'm done with this." He swallowed back the bile. "I'm done with you."


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erm... Dubcon? Forced date? IDK, but Hamilton's being an asshole.

_October 16th, 1989_

Alexander wasn’t at school on Monday.

Aaron tried not to let that worry him. He tried to ignore how the school seemed torn between sorrow and disgust when they heard about the supposed gay suicide pact between Marquis and Laurens. He tried, but he couldn’t escape when Angelica Schulyer cornered him, grabbing his arm to keep him from bolting.

“I need you to talk to Theodosia,” she said.

“She doesn’t want to talk to me, and quite frankly I don’t blame her.” Angelica glared at him, and Aaron shrunk back.

“Look, you’re an asshole, Aaron,” she said, “and if it was anyone besides Theodosia I’d say screw you. But she was always closer to you than to me, and I’m at the end of my rope here.”

“What are you talking about?” Aaron said.

“Last night, after the news of those two boys got out in the rumor mill, she went AWOL. Her mom called me at one in the morning, and I found her about to jump off a bridge.”

“Oh, God.” Angelica nodded, face softening slightly when she saw the horror on his face. “But what am I supposed to do? It’s my fault she even-“

“Aaron, shut up.” His mouth slammed closed. “You’re right, you fucked up, but you know how much she’s struggled with depression before. You helped her once before, you can do it again.”

“Angelica…” Angelica glared at him, and Aaron put up his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll talk to her. But I don’t know if it’ll do any good.”

“She isn’t at school today, but I expect you to talk to her as soon as she comes back. Or, I don’t know, invite her to the pep rally on Friday or something.”

“Fine. I will.” Aaron tried to walk away, but Angelica caught the back of his shirt. “What?”

“Aaron…” She paused, searching for the right words. “Are you alright? You seem off.” Aaron sighed.

“I’m fine,” he said. “I’m just tired. It’s been a weird couple of weeks.” Angelica nodded, but he could tell that she didn’t quite believe him.

“Yeah,” she said. “You know that I’m here if you need to talk, right?” Aaron nodded, and she finally let him leave.

If he had heard that Theodosia had tried to kill herself again a month ago, he would have fallen apart. But now… now too many people had died for him to feel anything but a numb sort of terror. The world was falling apart around him, _because_ of him, and he could do nothing but watch the blast destroy everything in his name. Aaron vaguely began to wonder whether he should have just done what Thomas had wanted and destroyed Alexander in the first place.

“Aaron!” James Madison looked terrified, but Aaron couldn’t tell of what.

“James, what’s going on?” James’ hand closed around Aaron’s wrist, but Aaron pulled away, heart pounding.

“Aaron, you have to help me.” Anger surged through Aaron, refreshingly strong, erupting in a vicious stream of words.

“You fucking SOLD ME OUT! You let Monroe continue. You could have stopped it, you could have spoken up, but _no_. You care more about your popularity than my FUCKING SANITY!” Aaron smashed James against the wall, and James began to cry, wheezing.

“Aaron…” he said.

“Don’t talk to me! Don’t act like you have a fucking conscience somewhere in your pathetic mind.”

“I know. I need your help getting a gun.” Aaron’s arms dropped, and he stared at James in horror.

“Why do you need a gun?” he said carefully.

“You’re right. You and Monroe are both right. I’m pathetic. I have no backbone. I whine and cry and let Thomas fuck me because I like the illusion that I’m good for something. I need a way to end it all.”

“James, there are other options-“

“You said it yourself, I sold you out! I’m done with this- this life. I’m done worrying about what will happen if I say or do the wrong thing. I just-“ James sniffled, and Aaron was struck with the urge to wrap his arms around him. James was pathetic alright, but in a sad way, like a stray puppy. “I just want to see Thomas again. He was an asshole, but he always seemed to care about me and understand me.”

“You can’t.” Aaron didn’t know what else to say. He hated how James Madison had left him to Monroe’s tender mercies, but he couldn’t stand having someone else die. Thomas, Marquis, Laurens, almost Theodosia, and now James Madison… He couldn’t stand it.

“If I don’t-“ James paused. “Monroe thinks I’m pathetic. I’ll be socially dead soon anyways. It would be better to be remembered as a Jeffersonian than as just another nameless loser.”

“Monroe…” James nodded. Aaron should have felt terrified as he left James without another word and started off for the office. He should have thought things through, waited for things to have greater clarity, but- He was done with letting the people around him die helplessly. One last time, and then he would be done with all of this. At least, that’s what he told himself.

“Can I use the phone quickly?” The receptionist nodded, too consumed by her cheap romance novel to really pay him any mind. Aaron went back to the phone and began to dial the number. The phone rang twice, and then someone picked up on the other end.

“What do you want?” It was Alexander’s voice, yet not Alexander’s voice. The fight was there, but none of the tenderness that was usually buried beneath the defiance.

“Alexander, it’s me.” Aaron heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end.

“Aaron,” and there it was, that worshipful tone that both frightened and thrilled him, “I thought you said that you were done with me.”

“Alexander, I need a favor.”

“Whatever you say.” Aaron glanced around, checking that no one was within earshot.”

“I need James Monroe gone,” he said. There was a long silence. “I don’t care how you do it, just do it. He need to fucking die.”

“What changed your mind?” Aaron hesitated.

“He’s been encouraging people to kill themselves,” he said. “I don’t want anyone else to die, but Monroe is…”

“I get it.” Alexander’s voice had lost some of the tenderness, but Aaron couldn’t tell whether it was in response to Monroe or to him. “I’ll take care of him, don’t worry.”

“Thank you.” Aaron was about to hang up, but Alexander continued talking.

“Of course, I might get it done a little more quickly if you gave me something in return.” Aaron felt sick.

“What do you want?” He prayed that it wasn’t sex. Though he had tried as hard as he could not to think of what had happened Saturday night, he knew that doing that again would be torture. He was just as certain that he would whore himself out in an instant if it meant getting Monroe gone.

“Oh, it’s nothing big,” Alexander said, a sort of glee entering his voice. “I want a date, a real date. Dinner, movie, sex. The whole shebang.”

“Fine.” Aaron tried to put it into perspective. Monroe was an asshole who’d forced him to have sex with Marquis and Laurens and was trying to get James to kill himself. A date was a small price to pay for him to stop that terror. “When are you free?”

“Wednesday night,” Alexander said. “You can pick me up at eight.”

“And Monroe will be dead?” Aaron had to know. He couldn’t put himself through sex, even with Alexander, if the reason for it all was still alive.

“Don’t worry,” Alexander said. “I always pay in advance.” Then Alexander hung up, and Aaron was left clutching the receiver, knuckles bulging beneath his skin. He breathed out slowly and tried to calm his stomach. It would be worth it when Monroe was gone. It had to be worth it.

As Aaron was leaving the office, a man grabbed his arm, stopping him. Aaron managed not to pull away this time, but he flinched against the harsh fingers. The man dropped his arm, and Aaron managed to control his breathing enough to seem normal.

“I’m sorry,” the man said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m Henry Laurens.” Aaron shook his hand, lips thinning. He had heard about John Laurens’ father, everyone who was popular had. Apparently he was supposed to be a complete asshole, but this man just looked old and sad. Once again Aaron was hit with the realization that this was his fault.

“Aaron Burr,” he said.

“Oh, yes. My son mentioned you.” Henry Laurens paused a moment, eyes full of tears. “I suppose that you knew my son?” Aaron nodded. “Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“Was he a- Was he homosexual?” Aaron considered his answer carefully. Henry Laurens didn’t seem disgusted or ashamed, just desperate, desperate to understand his son at least in death.

“I can’t say for certain,” Aaron said. “I mean, he dated Martha Manning for a while when we were sophomores. But- yeah, he and Marquis were together for a while, a year at least.” Henry Laurens nodded.

“I- I had hoped he wasn’t. Not because I hate him for it, but- but because I know that if he had told me when he was alive, I would have kicked him out. It just- It makes you reconsider everything when you realize that, if it wasn’t for you, your son would still be alive.”

“It’s not all on you,” Aaron said, thinking of his own guilt. “It’s everything. This school, this town, the world.” Henry Laurens nodded slowly.

“Well,” he said, “at least my way ahead is clear now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t let him die in vain. I have to tell his story so that other parents can learn and not make my mistakes.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umm... Dubcon leading to Con? IDK how to tag this, but Aaron seems pretty into it by the end, so...

_October 18th, 1989_

Monroe was dead. It wasn't a suicide like all the others. It was a car crash, a complete accident. His brake lines had frayed away.

Aaron hated that he had agreed to Alexander's bargain. He hated knowing that he would never have forgiven himself if he hadn't taken it. Most of all, he hated knowing that he had no choice but to continue. He had driven himself into a corner once again, just like at the party, and there was nothing to do but quietly take it, whether it was blows or sex or something else entirely.

Alexander was practically bouncing as he came out to the car. Aaron didn't think he had ever seen him so completely happy. He hated the fact that Alexander's happiness made the rest of the evening seem less of a burden. After all, Alexander was a serial killer. He'd killed four people and had almost caused Theodosia to jump off a bridge. Aaron shouldn't have wanted that smile to stay on his face forever.

Was that what love was? Was love wanting a person to be happy even when they should be imprisoned?

They ate chili dogs from a booth in the mall before the movie. Aaron couldn't pay attention to the plot, he was too distracted by the way that Alexander's fingers looked intertwined with his. It was only when they were back in the car, Alexander babbling excitedly about what they'd just seen, that Aaron's anxiety began to return. He didn't want to have to have sex and ruin this moment. He wanted to stay like this, just too normal guys on a normal date, as though life hadn't changed and people weren't dead.

"Alexander..." he said, stopping by the side of the road. Alexander fell silent, eyes wide and bright and  _God_ Aaron loved him. He loved him so much it ached, because he knew that they couldn't come out intact, not now.

"Yeah?" Alexander said. Aaron stared out the window, at the steering wheel, anywhere but at Alexander.

"I loved tonight." Alexander's smile was blinding. "I loved tonight, and I love you, but I can't be with you, not like this."

"Why not?" Alexander was harsh, demanding. Aaron couldn't help but curl inward. He didn't want to tell him. He wanted this to be a dream to wake from, anything to get out of this tangled mess.

"I can't- I can't be with you, not unless-"

"Unless?" Alexander said, grabbing onto the thread of hope. Aaron turned to look at him, to try to memorize him before it was too late.

"We need to stop this- this revenge," he said. "Can't we just... be normal? Can we just be seventeen?" Alexander didn't answer, and Aaron reached out to grab his hands. "Please, I don't need you to save me. I just need this. We can, you know, be normal. Go on dates. Kiss." Aaron leaned forward, demonstrating, and Alexander responded with bruising enthusiasm. When he finally drew back, it was only to brush a thumb over Aaron's lips.

"This is why I worship you," he said. "In spite of everything, you still seem so innocent. You still act as though there's some good left in this worthless world."

"I don't want to be worshiped," Aaron said, despite the soft, guilty pleasure the idea brought him. Alexander though he was worth something. No, Alexander though he was worth more than  _anything else._ It was flattering, dangerously flattering. "I just want this. Seventeen. Please-"

Alexander pulled him forward, until Aaron was curled in the passenger seat on his lap. For once he wasn't desperate to the point of harshness. Instead, Alexander was gentle, with trembling fingers and hesitant lips. That, more than anything, made Aaron want to save Alexander. Was it a bit self-righteous to want to be the hero after everything he had done? Maybe, but in the darkness Aaron could almost believe that heroism still existed.

"I want..." Alexander moved his hands down Aaron's sides until they rested on the waistband of his jeans. "God, I want to blow you." The tight feeling returned to Aaron's chest.

"Alexander,  _please_ -" he said, trying to push his hands away, but Alexander was already sinking to the floor of the car between Aaron legs. His breath was hot and ragged, ghosting over the slowly rising outline of Aaron's dick within the denim.

"Aaron, I can be good. I've done this before; I can be my best for you." He nuzzled against the bulge, and Aaron gasped, hands grabbing for Alexander's head, twisting his hair. Alexander gave a soft whine. "Please let me blow you, Aaron."

It was the tone, the desperation of the request, as well as his own increasing arousal, that made Aaron nod. His fingers fumbled with his fly for a moment before he got it open. His cock was already hard and quickly growing harder when Alexander wrapped his lips around the head.

Aaron moaned. Alexander sucked at his dick like... like if he found the right way he could make milk and honey flow from the head and wine from the veins. He turned the blowjob, a simple, dirty action, into a holy ritual, a desperate man seeing salvation. Before, Aaron had thought that Alexander had been exaggerating when he said that he worshiped him. Now he wasn't so sure.

"Alexander... I'm going to..." Aaron tried to pull away, but Alexander followed him down to his base, so when Aaron arched his back and came with a guttural cry he was still in Alexander's mouth. Alexander finally drew back as Aaron softened, spit and strands of come dripping from his swollen lips as he swallowed. Aaron could do nothing but lie back, shaking, staring at the beauty that was Alexander Hamilton.

"Do you believe me now?" Alexander's voice was hoarse from taking him down. Aaron hands jerked towards Alexander's face, fingers smearing the come around his mouth before guiding his head down to Aaron's lap. Alexander hummed contentedly, kissing the inside of Aaron's thigh. "I can be whatever you want me to be. I can protect you. I can satisfy you. It doesn't matter what you do to me, I can take it, I will always take it. I just want..." Alexander's tongue darted out, lapping a last bead of come from Aaron's tip. "I want to be yours. In every way." Aaron hated himself at that moment. He was going to ask the impossible of this beautiful man.

"Promise-"

"Anything." Aaron leaned down and kissed the top of Alexander's head.

"Promise me that no one else will die by you." Aaron could feel the way that Alexander tensed at that and prepared himself for the outburst that would follow.

"But what if they hurt you?" Alexander was plaintive, uncomprehending.

"No one needs to die."

"You can't let them get away with what they do!" Alexander's head was out of Aaron's lap, indignant. "You were the one to ask me to kill Monroe. You understand what we're dealing with. They're monsters!"

"Alexander, if you don't stop, I can't-"

"Don't-" Alexander reached out, but Aaron pushed him away, firmly this time, going back to the driver's side.

"I can't be with you then." Alexander was crying as he left the car, slamming the door behind him. All Aaron could do was hope that something he'd said or done had gotten through to Alexander. He couldn't stand being an accessory to murder anymore, but he wanted so badly for Alexander to see the light and come back to him.


	15. Chapter 15

_October 20th, 1989_

Theodosia wouldn't talk to him. The Schulyer sisters were still glaring. Madison seemed to have attached himself like moss to a tree, glancing around them as though Monroe would pop out from behind one of the lockers at any second. Worst of all, Alexander had disappeared. No one knew where he was, not even his foster parents, and no one but Aaron seemed to care.

Aaron hated that, even as he got ready for the pep rally that Angelica had promised to get Theodosia to go to, he couldn't think of anyone but Alexander. Had Aaron made a terrible mistake in insisting on Alexander stopping? His conscience said that he had been in the right, but he couldn't help but think that nothing would hurt Alexander worse than Aaron rejecting everything that had been done for him.

Someone rapped on Aaron's bedroom window. Aaron jumped, but when he saw who it was he became both more and less anxious. Less, because it was only Alexander. More, because why would Alexander show up now? Aaron opened the window and let Alexander through.

"What are you doing here?" Aaron said. Alexander gave him a grin that made a shiver go down Aaron's spine. "Alexander?"

"I've figured it out," Alexander said. "I know how to fix everything."

"What are you talking about?" Alexander pulled Aaron forward, kissing him.

"It's them, isn't it? They're keeping you away from me. But that will end tonight. Everything will end tonight." Aaron pushed Alexander away.

"You're insane," he said.

"No, I've ahead of the curve. Instead of waiting for them to hurt you, I'll get them first. Tonight, at the pep rally, they will burn." Aaron began to slowly back towards the door. The closest phone was in his uncle's bedroom. He had to get to it, to warn someone. "Don't worry. I know you're nervous, but they'll all die, I've made sure of that. Everyone who's ever hurt or belittled us will be blown right to hell. And then- and then we can be happy, just like you wanted. We can be seventeen forever."

"I'm not doing this," Aaron said. Then he ran out of his room, down the hall, and into his uncle's bedroom. He locked the door and looked around frantically for the phone. Alexander was banging on the door.

"Don't you want them gone? They're all garbage, all except for you. We can create a new world, a new King's, where no one will ever feel helpless, where there aren't any assholes like Thomas Jefferson. We need a clean slate, Aaron, and this is our chance. Why won't you listen to me? I'm doing this all for you!"

There wasn't a phone. Aaron shuffled through the drawers of the nightstand, hoping for salvation, and then he froze. There was a handgun.

"Alexander, don't do this," Aaron said, carefully loading the gun. The beginnings of a plan were forming in his mind. "I have a gun."

"Don't you want this, Aaron? Just you and me. You and me, without the rest of the fucking world there to judge us and what we do. We can be happy!"

"Alexander, don't make me do this." Aaron brought the gun up. If Alexander didn't stop... "Please, I don't want to hurt you."

"We can blow them all away and start anew. Wouldn't you like that, Aaron? Another shot?" Yes, Aaron would. He would love another shot at the school year, to prevent all this from happening, but it was too late for that now. All he could do was try to stop the train from going out of control.

"I'm sorry," he said. The sound of the gunshot was deafening. There was silence, just for a moment, and then Alexander took in a ragged breath.

"No..." He sounded broken. "No, Aaron, not you too, please..." Aaron didn't even dare to breathe, afraid that any noise would give away his ruse. If Alexander had no one to protect, no one to try to make happy, he would stop this. He had to stop this. "Oh, God no. No, please,  _please!_ You were all I could trust; you were everything. You weren't supposed to die, not you too." Aaron could hear how Alexander slid, boneless, onto the floor. "Aaron... God, Aaron, they will pay for what they made you do. I promise that at least."

Aaron collapsed on the bed as soon as Alexander had left the house, slamming the door. It hadn't worked. If anything it had made everything worse. King's High School would be blown away, and it was all Aaron's fault.

No. No, Aaron couldn't let this happen. No one else had to die, no one but him. He wouldn't allow it. Aaron got up shakily and went out to his car, ready to go to the pep rally.


	16. Chapter 16

_October 20th, 1989_

Aaron fingered the gun in his coat pocket, body thrumming with energy as he drove to King’s High School. He didn’t want to have to use it, not against Alexander, but he didn’t know whether he would be given a choice. No one at the pep rally deserved to die. The only people who did were Aaron… and Alexander.

Aaron parked a few blocks from the school and ran. He couldn’t risk being too late. Nothing worried him more than the possibility of turning the corner to see a bombed-out husk. But, no, the school was still there, still intact. Aaron threw open the door, only to be stopped by Angelica.

“Aaron, thank God you’re here,” she said. “Theodosia’s in there-“

“Angelica, I don’t have time to see her,” Aaron said. Angelica was glaring, but for once Aaron could ignore it. He couldn’t think about anything but Alexander and the bomb.

“Aaron, you don’t get to chicken out now! Theodosia needs you, and I don’t give a fuck what your Jeffersonians think of her.”

“This isn’t about that. Look, I’ll explain later, but I promise you that this is important.” Angelica opened her mouth to argue, but Aaron pushed past her. Alexander would be in the basement, the boiler room. He had to be; it was right below the gym, where 95% of the school was gathered. Aaron took the stairs three at a time, jumping down the last five. He couldn’t afford to waste a second. If he was too late-

There. Alexander was in the center of the boiler room, struggling with the wiring of the bomb. It looked too small to do much damage, but Aaron didn’t know much about explosives. He couldn’t let Alexander do this.

“Alexander!” he called out. Alexander looked up, surprise and joy on his face, but the expression was wiped away when Aaron pulled his gun. Alexander stood, hand going to his jacket.

“Aaron? I thought you were dead!”

“Step away from the bomb.”

“This is barely a bomb. The thermals upstairs it will trigger- those are the bombs.” At other times, Alexander had seemed frantic or desperate, but now he was calm, almost flippant. It was unnerving to find him acting so… natural.

“Alexander, I’ve tried to reason with you. I’ve done all I can to make you stop. But I can’t make excuses to myself anymore. Step away from the bomb, or I will shoot you.”

“Fine, prove that you’re one of them.” Alexander pulled out his own gun and cocked it. “Prove that you’re willing to roll over and play nice so long as they scratch your belly. Destroy me, I don’t care. I’m doing this to make us free, and if you can’t understand it…” Aaron didn’t look at the gun. He was too absorbed by Alexander’s eyes, trying to find an ounce of regret, but he found nothing.

“I wish your mom had been stronger. I wish your dad had stuck around. I wish that the world was kind to you, or at least that I’d found you before they convinced you that life is war.” Aaron cocked his gun. “But I can’t change the past. We can only change the future. Please, come with me. We can make things right.” Alexander shook his head.

“It’s too late,” he said. “I’m taking my stand and making my choice. The only question is whether you’ll have the guts to finally make yours.”

“Alexander-“

“Make your choice! Are you with me or against me?”

It was almost too simple. Aaron moved his finger, pressing down on the trigger with a bang. But as he did, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alexander aim at the sky. It took him too long to realize what that meant.

“Wait!” Alexander was falling, blood blooming across his chest, a look of faint surprise on his face. Aaron raced towards him, but it was too late. There was no pulse.

Faintly, Aaron heard footsteps racing down the stairs. Blood rushed in his ears as Aaron looked around and made his decision. He couldn’t let Alexander be ruined by this. He picked up Alexander’s gun, putting it in his pocket, and then he quickly picked up the bomb, getting his fingerprints all over it. Then he stood over Alexander, waiting. He was ready.

Washington entered the room first, followed by Angelica and Theodosia. Aaron winced. He didn’t want them to see this. Aaron dropped his gun and raised his hands above his head. Washington stopped short, and Aaron heard Angelica and Theodosia gasp.

“What’s going on here?” Washington demanded. Aaron just stared at the ground, at the blood pooling at his feet. “Angelica, go call the police.” Angelica nodded and left, pulling Theodosia along with her. Aaron pushed aside the pain. It was better for everyone that he was as alone as possible.

“Sir, I can explain-“

“I don’t want to hear any excuses.” Aaron forced himself to meet Washington’s eyes.

“I was trying to blow up the school,” he said. “Alexander tried to stop me, and I shot him.” Washington kicked the gun on the ground away from Aaron. Aaron didn’t react.

When the police came, he didn’t resist them.


	17. Epilogue

_December 1st, 1989_

Aaron was as surprised as anyone when the guard told him that he had a visitor. It couldn't be his uncle; Aaron was pretty sure that he'd disowned him anyways. There wasn't anyone from school who would want to see him. Giving his cellmate a confused shrug, he went to the room where you were allowed to meet visitors, separated by a sheet of shatterproof glass, of course.

"Aaron!" Aaron couldn't help but smile when he saw Theodosia. She had been the last person he'd expected, but it was by no means an unpleasant surprise.

"Theo, what're you doing here?" he said. Theodosia sat in the chair across from him, tugging nervously at the sleeves of her jacket. She looked a bit thinner than when he'd last seen her, but she seemed to be alright, and that was all he could ask.

"I wanted to see you," she said. "Sorry I took so long, but my parents didn't think I should-"

"It's fine." Theodosia didn't seem to be buying it. She was worried.

"How long before you get out of here?" she said. Aaron sighed.

"Sentencing's next week," he said. "I could get off easy because I'm a minor, but... it's not looking good. First degree murder has a maximum sentence of life without parole, and since I also tried to blow up the school..."

"Aaron, I know you're innocent."

"Theo, I'm not." Theodosia shook her head.

"Before that pep rally, I saw Alexander Hamilton messing around behind the bleachers. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but- Look, nothing else makes sense. You came too late to plant the bombs, and I saw him. We can get you off. You don't have to go to jail."

"I've already plead guilty."

"Then I'll contest it. I'll tell the police what I saw, they can't just ignore the evidence."

"Alexander was obsessed with how he'd be seen later on," Aaron said softly. "He wanted to- to leave something behind, something worth it. This is the only way I can protect his legacy. Don't you understand, Theo?" Theodosia looked as though she was close to tears.

"But life in prison? Is it really worth it? You have so much time left, don't just throw it away."

"Look, I'm fucked either way," Aaron said. "Just leave me be, Theo. It's as much my fault as Alexander's. I've made my decision." For a moment he thought she'd refuse, that she'd go to the police anyways. But then Theodosia put her hand against the glass.

"I'm not letting you be alone," she said. "I'll visit whenever I can." She looked at her watch. "I've got to go, but I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," said Aaron. For the first time in months, Theodosia smiled at him.


End file.
